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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23570359">Strong, Dark Grind</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/listlessness/pseuds/listlessness'>listlessness</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Nescafé Gold Blend Commercials</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Coffee, Coming Untouched, Dirty Talk, F/M, Innuendo, Talked to Orgasm, this is not a paid advertisement</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 20:15:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,635</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23570359</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/listlessness/pseuds/listlessness</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony asks Sharon out to dinner, but surely he wouldn't be so forward as to ask her for coffee after.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tony (Nescafe Gold Blend Commercials)/Sharon (Nescafe Gold Blend Commercials)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Smut 4 Smut 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Strong, Dark Grind</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/chamilet/gifts">chamilet</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is for <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/chamilet/pseuds/chamilet">chamilet</a> as part of the <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/collections/smut4smut2020">smut4smut 2020</a> exchange.</p><p>I must admit I haven't seen the Nescafe commercials for years, but once I saw the request, a part of me insisted I write something for it. </p><p>This is not a paid sponsorship, I swear.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
It was late.
</p><p>
Sharon knew she ought to be making her leave back to her apartment. She had an early start at work the following morning, and, rationally, she knew she couldn't risk laying awake in her own bed as the rush of caffeine ran through her system.
</p><p>
It was only meant to be dinner and it had been wonderful. Even now, as Sharon dabbed the corners of her mouth with a napkin, she found the remnants of flavour lingering on her tongue. Sweet potato, kale, and something Tony had called roast pork with a side of red-eye gravy. Tiramisu had been served for dessert, and she was sure she had never tasted anything more divine.
</p><p>
She was going to have trouble falling asleep that night. As she stood, collecting the last of the serving plates from the table, Sharon knew sleep would be hard to come by that night. There was a rush going through her that was all too familiar and yet incredibly unexpected at the same time.
</p><p>
It was something she hadn't experienced for a long while. Oh, part of it was definitely something she had come to expect with Tony. She felt it every time she caught his eye, the upwards curve of his lips into a mischievous smirk, the way he would tilt his head whenever he dared ask for her company for just a moment long. A minute of her time, an unneeded question, an offer of coffee before she left. And Sharon, time after time, found herself accepting, just for an excuse to prolong their company once more.
</p><p>
But there was an undercurrent to it, too. It wasn't just the skip of her heartbeat, the way her mind would spin and her breath catch in her throat whenever Tony turned his attention to her. Oh, that was all definitely there, and Sharon found herself resting her fingers on the neckline of her blouse whenever it happened. It was something that built up from deep within her, as though she had swallowed a mouthful of coffee straight from the pot. It warmed her deeply, spreading throughout her entire body with a sensation that had long been missing.
</p><p>
Carrying the last of the dishes into the kitchen, Sharon found her eyes immediately drawn to Tony. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, some of the dishes already drying on the sink.
</p><p>
'I'd have helped,' she said, setting the dishes down. She wasn't sure if he had a system in place, and she wasn't about to intrude. 'You didn't need to start without me.'
</p><p>
'It's no trouble. I didn't invite you over for dinner under the expectation you would do the dishes in return.'
</p><p>
Tony turned as he spoke and smiled. It was the same smile that made Sharon's heart flutter, her breath catch and her knees grow weak. The smile was coy and coquettish, and far too roguish for a man of his age. Sharon knew she shouldn't be feeling like she was back in school again by a mere smile alone.
</p><p>
'I have something for you,' Tony said, drying his hands on a towel.
</p><p>
'Oh?'
</p><p>
He stepped back from the sink and towards one of the cupboards. Sharon watched him, her hip cocked slightly. Her eyes tracked him as he reached up, opening one of the doors hanging from the wall. His shirt road up just a little, and Sharon was gifted a small sliver of skin.
</p><p>
'Coffee?' he asked.
</p><p>
It was casual. Effortless. Any other night, Sharon would have said, <em>yes, yes, I'd love one</em>, all for an excuse to spend just a few more minutes with him. And as close as she was to replying as such, the call from a night bird just outside the window had her hesitating.
</p><p>
Tony noticed. He looked over at her mildest hesitation, her lips parted but no sound coming out.
</p><p>
'I have an early meeting,' she finally said. 'Conference call with the German office.'
</p><p>
'Ah.'
</p><p>
Tony was doing his best to not look disappointed. A shiver of guilt ran down Sharon's spine as she stepped forward, her hand drifting along the edge of the sink as she approached. There were drops of water still on it, a brief reprieve of something cool as her skin began to warm.
</p><p>
'But perhaps you could tell me and I can look forward to it next time?'
</p><p>
For a beat, Tony merely studied her. Then, with a smile, he looked back at the cupboard and drew down the item in question. Tilting her head to the side, Sharon watched as he revealed the box.
</p><p>
'Gold Blend?' she uttered.
</p><p>
'It's new.'
</p><p>
It was only then that Sharon realised he was right. It wasn't the jar that Sharon had come to expect. Tony was holding a box, coloured in the same familiar golden hue of the jar. There was a glass on it, filled with coffee and a good dollop of froth on top, drizzled with something.
</p><p>
'What is it?' she finally asked.
</p><p>
'It's caramel latte,' Tony replied, with a twinkle in his eye. 'Perfect for indulgent moments.'
</p><p>
As he spoke, he reached over to the kettle and turned it on. The water began to whistle as it was heated. Sharon's eyes continued to track Tony as he slid his thumb under the the glued cardboard and he plucked out a sachet. Shaking it with a flick of his wrist, he began to prepare himself a coffee.
</p><p>
There was a rhythm to it. It was almost a dance, the way Tony drew a mug from the shelf. Liquid and smooth, an ease to it with just a suggestion of a show.
</p><p>
Sharon was stunned to discover he didn't draw a saucer out with the mug. He set it down on the counter top, the weight of the porcelain ringing out with a dull thud.
</p><p>
'Aren't you worried about that marking the counter?' Sharon asked.
</p><p>
'I won't tell if you won't,' Tony replied, his voice teasing.
</p><p>
It was then that Sharon knew she couldn't deny him this. That laughter that edged his voice, the blatant disregard for his kitchen surfaces. The stakes were low and of no consequence, Sharon understood that, but there was some fun to be had in playing along. The heat inside her was growing, and she found herself biting her lower lip as she took half a step closer. Her hip grazed along the edge of the sink as she leant into it, crossing a foot behind her ankle.
</p><p>
'Caramel,' she stated, glancing at the box where Tony had left it. 'Interesting choice.'
</p><p>
'There are many,' he replied. 'Mocha. Vanilla. Coconut. Toffee.'
</p><p>
'Toffee? That sounds delightful.'
</p><p>
The glimmer in Tony's eye told her that he would remember that.
</p><p>
Soon, the rich, earthy smell of coffee wafted over to her. Lifting her chin a little, Sharon watched as Tony lifted the mug. The single sachet had produced a strong mug of coffee, with a creamy froth balanced upon the top. Her tongue ran over her lips of their own accord, her teeth catching a little as she watched Tony swirl the mug just under his nose.
</p><p>
'The sweetness of the caramel brings out the richness of the Arabica beans,' Tony said, tilting the mug to her just enough so that she could see. 'And blends with the creaminess, which creates a delectable foam.'
</p><p>
Sharon swallowed hard. Her toes curled in the tight leather of her pumps. Inwardly, she cursed her professionalism, her promise to attend a teleconference that she truly wasn't even required to go to. She had never been one to fib or lie to get out of work, but now she wondered if she could give it a go, just once in her life. Just for a taste of the coffee from Tony's own lips as he took a sip.
</p><p>
'<em>Oh</em>!' Tony gasped, smacking his lips. 'That's hot.'
</p><p>
'How hot?'
</p><p>
His eyes met hers. There was a breath. Sharon could feel her heart in her throat.
</p><p>
'Scalding,' he replied, just as Sharon took another half-step closer. 'I shan't let you have any. You may burn yourself.'
</p><p>
'I'll be careful.'
</p><p>
'I wouldn't want you burning your fingers. Perhaps I'll just describe it to you.'
</p><p>
Sharon took a deep breath through her nose but conceded. At mention of her fingers, her hand slid down the length of her tight pencil skirt. The cotton smoothed beneath her palm, only slightly coarse, and she found herself crossing her legs at the knees. There was a wave of pressure building up within her that couldn't be buoyed. The smell of the coffee, the lingering trace of froth upon Tony's lips as he sipped at the mug, the playful look on his face as he dared to let her glance at the forbidden drink kept pushing her forward.
</p><p>
'It's rich,' he said, his voice as liquid as his beverage. 'Smooth. It's a lighter roast, but it doesn't make it any less flavourful.'
</p><p>
Lifting her chin ever so slightly, Sharon felt the words wash over her. She could almost taste it. Her skin prickled with desire, her knees pressing together just a little more. Her clothes were beginning to stifle her.
</p><p>
'The coffee itself is smooth. It's very easy to let myself get carried away, drinking it. I find myself continuously going back for more, even if I know I'm at risk of over-indulging myself.'
</p><p>
'Is that such a bad thing?'
</p><p>
'Maybe not,' he said with a shrug. Then, just as casually, 'but maybe some restraint is a good thing. You know all about that, don't you?'
</p><p>
At that moment, Sharon could have kissed him and slapped him in equal measure. She made a small noise, something not unlike a deep, drawn-out <em>oh!</em>, and rolled her eyes. The heat that kept building inside of her, though, had her rooted to the floor and any part of her that could move didn't want to.
</p><p>
'I can't help myself, though,' Tony continued. 'I keep going back for more. It's quickly become my most favourite indulgence. The sweetness and saltiness of the caramel. The powerful and arousing draw of the coffee.'
</p><p>
A shiver ran down Sharon's spine. The heat pulsing through her body had centred low in her below. A wondrous and awful ache was thrumming away, and she didn't dare call attention to it. Even so, one hand had begun to clutch at her skirt, while the other curled around the cool edge of the sink. She could feel it warming from her touch alone, her fingernails clicking as she watched Tony lift the mug to his lips and take a sip from it.
</p><p>
How scandalous it was that he wasn't drinking from his normal coffee cup. How tantalising it was to see the foam linger behind until a swipe of his pink tongue cleaned it away. How terrible it was to feel stuck to the spot, unable to help herself to the Gold Blend that he held and ask, just once, for a sip from the same mug.
</p><p>
She could almost feel how it would taste. The hot coffee on her tongue, the flavours running through her. The creaminess on the roof of her mouth, the sweetness on the back of her teeth, the bitterness down her throat.
</p><p>
Maybe she could even dare to steal the mug right from him. How absolutely devilish that would be. She didn't know if he'd stop her, or if maybe he'd even encourage her, goad her into drinking it despite her early meeting the following day.
</p><p>
He held the mug between his hands. His fingers would be warm, Sharon knew that. She wanted to feel them. The brush of them along the backs of her hands, sliding up to her wrists. Her own fingers were quivering, and she was filled with a compulsion to grab him and find somewhere private.
</p><p>
'It's a peculiar match,' Tony continued. 'It shouldn't go together. It's unexpected.'
</p><p>
'Sometimes that's the best type of match, though.' There was a shiver in her voice, which took Sharon by surprise. 'The kind where there is no reason for them to mix, but there's still a shared common ground.'
</p><p>
He took a step forward. He was close enough that Sharon could almost feel him. She wondered, briefly and hazily, if he could feel the heat of her skin. Her cheeks were flushed; she could feel them, the warmth rising over her face. Her breath was catching in her throat and her knees were beginning to buckle.
</p><p>
'A small taste wouldn't hurt, I suppose,' she finally admitted.
</p><p>
Tony smiled, only the corner of his mouth lifting up. 'I'm glad to hear it. One taste.'
</p><p>
Although she had expected to take the mug herself, it was Tony who raised it to her mouth. Most of the frothiness had dissolved, though some still lingered on the surface. The smell of coffee ran over her like a warm blanket, the heat deep within swelling as he tilted the mug towards her lips. The kiss of caramel had her grabbing at the sink, knuckles turning white as she struggled to stay up.
</p><p>
True to his word, it was only one taste. A lick of coffee, a whisper of caramel. The creaminess of milk lingered on her lips as he lowered the mug and set it down. It still felt lewd, listening to the ceramic touch the counter top with nothing underneath it.
</p><p>
Sharon only had a moment to compose herself before Tony reached up. His thumb ran over her lips, swiping them clean of milk. The touch alone was electric, impossibly wonderful and incredible. His fingertips caught at her jaw, the faintest scratch of his nails dragging on the underside of her chin as he pulled his hand away. She ached deep within and almost begged for him to repeat the tender touch. The words remained locked in her throat, though, as he drew his thumb to his mouth and licked it clean.
</p><p>
How cruel. How vibrantly, ferociously <em>cruel</em>.
</p><p>
Struggling to remain upright, Sharon held her breath. A tremble shook through her, the heat imploding within her and striking throughout her body. It burned, from deep in her belly to the tips of her toes, the very edge of her fingernails, up her throat and to her mouth where his touch still bit at her lips.
</p><p>
'I best let you make your way home,' Tony said. 'I wouldn't want to be the reason you can't get out of bed tomorrow morning.
</p><p>
He looked smug. He <em>sounded</em> smug. Once more, Sharon wanted to slap him but she wasn't sure she'd be able to make her hands work.
</p><p>
'You think that highly of yourself?'
</p><p>
'It's not me. It's the coffee.'
</p><p>
Somehow, Sharon found it within herself to make her feet work. One step, then the other. She moved away, her hand trailing along the sink before she could pivot on the ball of her foot and move away from him. As flustered as she was, she was finding herself smiling. The heat had subsided only a little, but some of it had retained. It was pleasant, like the lingering trace of caffeine long after the coffee had been drunk.
</p><p>
'I suppose you'll need to make me one, next time,' she said as she made her way back to the dining room to collect her purse.
</p><p>
'You liked the sound of toffee, right?' Tony replied. 'Maybe I'll have you describe it to me.'
</p><p>
A small chuckle came from Sharon as she headed to the door. Her legs were still weak, but she made it.
</p><p>
Tony opened it for her. His hand was by her shoulder, lingering a little, until he bowed his head and bid her a goodnight. She repeated the gesture and words, promising to visit the following night. After all, there was no harm in a nightcap.
</p>
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